“What is that under there?!” I shouted. “Under where?!” my roommate screamed back, concerned. “HA! I made you say underwear!” I shouted back. My roommate, not amused he fell for this joke for the 3rd time this morning, gave me a cross look. The joke was wearing thin. “Shouldn’t you be writing?” my roommate quipped. Instead, I noticed my Maltese Freddie under the table. Before I could say, “look under there”, I was smacked over the head with a frying pan. I woke up to find my roommate stuffing his used underwear in my mouth. Surprisingly, they taste like waffles.